NOVEL WEB Chapter 20: Testing Time
Following the tour of the dojo, Professor Bain guided the students through different parts of the academy. They visited the dining hall with its enchanted ambiance, explored the cutting-edge science labs, and finally reached the courtyard where students could study or relax amid carefully cultivated magical flora.
After completing this comprehensive tour, Professor Bain led them to the training sector, a specialized area housing the academy's advanced training facilities. As they walked through the hallways, Alex noticed the gradual shift in student demographics - the closer they got to the training sector, the older the students appeared, some sporting full beards that marked them as seasoned practitioners.
Upon entering the facility, Alex's eyes widened at the array of testing equipment before them. The room housed everything from enchanted punching bags that measured power output to more exotic apparatus like mysterious sitting cauldrons. The testing facility seemed equipped to evaluate every conceivable aspect of magical aptitude.
"Here we'll determine your baseline stats, which will help us make better decisions regarding your training and development," Professor Bain explained, gesturing at the equipment around them.
"To expedite this process, I've enlisted some senior students to assist," he continued. As if on cue, four students walked through the door, their presence commanding respect.
"These sixth-year students will guide you through the tests, so please follow their instructions carefully. Now, I'll divide you into groups of five." Professor Bain touched his emblem, causing each student's OSAI to notify them of their randomly assigned group number.
'Sir Alex, your number is 3, and you will join Professor Bain's group,' Alfred informed Alex.
"What numbers did you guys get?" Alex asked, turning to his friends.
"Number 2," Max replied.
"I got 1," Randy added.
"Now, please join your assigned helpers so we can begin the assessment," Professor Bain instructed, his voice carrying the weight of authority.
Walking over to Professor Bain's group, Alex immediately noticed Emma Everbloom, the class representative. She stood apart from the others, her presence commanding such respect that students instinctively maintained their distance, perhaps deterred by her famously frosty demeanor.
Yet one person seemed immune to this unspoken boundary - the vampire Alex had spotted earlier during class. With fluid grace, he approached Emma, his movements carrying the practiced elegance of aristocracy.
"Hello there, Miss Everbloom. What a pleasure to have you as my class representative, even if you did claim such honors from beneath my grasp," the vampire purred, circling her like a predator studying fine art. His eyes traced her form with barely concealed interest.
Emma's voice cut through the air like winter frost. "Mind your gaze, Sir Leon, unless you wish rumors of your interest in a human noble to reach your father's ears."
"My, my, Emma," Leon chuckled, his fangs glinting in the light. "How cruel of you to threaten me when I'm merely appreciating the menu. Surely I can't be faulted for admiring such an exquisite offering."
Emma released a weary sigh, her composed expression suggesting long familiarity with his provocations. "Enough of your games, Leon. I haven't the patience for them today."
"Very well, very well," Leon conceded with theatrical resignation. "I know how jealously you guard your solitude." With fluid grace, he glided away to join the rest of the group, though his amber eyes occasionally flickered back to Emma's stoic form.
Alex watches the interaction thoughtfully. 'They seem to know each other,' he concludes, noting the familiar way they converse.
Before he can ponder this further, Professor Bain's voice cuts through his musings.
"Group 3, gather around. Our first test will measure your physical might." Professor Bain leads them to a punching bag adorned with multiple strike points. "Here, you'll demonstrate your hand-to-hand combat abilities without using your bloodline. This will help us determine if your bloodline has affected your natural body composition."
"Emma, would you kindly demonstrate?"
"Of course, Professor." Emma approaches the punching bag with measured steps.
"Proceed whenever you're ready."
Shifting into a seasoned hunter's stance, Emma launches into action. Her first strike - a powerful punch to the center - flows seamlessly into a precise kick at shin level. From there, she erupts into a lethal dance, each movement carrying deadly grace as she systematically strikes every target on the bag. Her technique reveals a mastery of combat, each blow strategically placed to maximize damage while maintaining optimal speed.
'She's incredible,' Alex marvels, captivated by Emma's fluid grace. Her movements seem to defy natural limitations, every strike executed with flawless precision.
As swiftly as she began, Emma concludes her demonstration, having struck each target point with devastating accuracy.
'She makes it look effortless,' Alex reflects, comparing his own capabilities to her display. 'If I attempted that I'd probably tear something.'
A holographic message emerges from the machine, displaying a number: E-Tier 23.
"Very nice, Emma," Professor Bain nods approvingly. "Now class, for some of you these numbers hold little meaning, so allow me to provide context. F-Tier ranges from 10-20, E-Tier from 21-35, and D-Tier from 36-60. The highest record ever achieved by a first-year student was 34. Do note that Emma's score is quite exceptional - typically, only two students per class reach E-Tier. Now that you understand the numerical framework, let's proceed." Professor Bain gestures from left to right, his hand sweeping past where Alex sits in the middle section.
After Emma, Leon is the first on the left to approach the striking bag. "Impressive display, Miss Everbloom," he remarks smoothly. "I witnessed a true master at work."
Ignoring Leon's comments, Emma rejoins a group of students to the left as he steps forward. His nonchalant posture creates a striking contrast to Emma's previous precision.
"On your mark," Professor Bain announces. The moment he finishes, Leon strikes - not with a closed fist, but with his hand straight as a spear. His movements show razor-sharp precision as he hits each target point just as Emma had done. His technique reflects years of rigorous training, his skills clearly a cut above the ordinary.
After skillfully engaging with the punching bag, Leon steps back to await his results. "Calculating results," the machine announces before displaying his stats: E-Tier 24.
Seeing his results, Leon walks back smugly toward Emma. "Would you believe that? The Class Rep losing to somebody? You've lost your edge, Emma. What happened to that cold warrior who could strike down any foe?" he teases.
"The same Class Rep who beat you in the tournament for this position?" Emma turns, fixing Leon with an icy stare. His head snaps away at her words.
"Tch. That was just one fight. Next time, I won't let my guard down so easily," Leon defends, the memory of that embarrassing final match still fresh.
The rest of the group takes their turns at the punching bag, but none manage to break into E-Tier. Finally, it's Alex's turn. Throughout the demonstration, he's noticed everyone seems to possess basic combat knowledge - something he completely lacks. Still, he's determined to try his best.
Standing before the machine, Alex assumes what he hopes is a proper athletic stance. At Professor Bain's nod of approval, he launches forward, striking the machine's chest before following up with a kick to its side. His hand chops at the machine's arm as he tries to optimize his movements, putting as much strength as possible into each attack. His amateur status shows clearly as he takes longer than anyone else to complete the sequence.
Slightly winded, Alex steps back after hitting all the required marks. His results materialize before him: F-Tier 12.
Snickers ripple through the crowd at his lowest score. Even with low expectations, the sting of failure burns deep. Alex forces himself to ignore the laughter as he walks back to his position.
"Even the thugs from the slums could do better than that," Leon's murmur carries just far enough for Alex to hear.
'Well, it's not like I chose to be transported to this world,' Alex thinks, taking a deep breath. He accepts this moment of humiliation as a measure of how far he needs to go, refusing to let their remarks poison his determination to improve.